


He comes as everything you've ever wished for

by HiDevilLovesYou



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Aziraphale Finally Realises, Aziraphale is soft for Crowley, Aziraphale knows he's in love, Aziraphale-centric (Good Omens), Forbidden Love, How Do I Tag, I'm Bad At Tagging, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Jane Eyre mentioned, M/M, Memories, My First Work in This Fandom, No Dialogue, One Shot, Pining, There is no dialogue in this one my mates, so much pining, this is a mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-09-19 06:40:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20326768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HiDevilLovesYou/pseuds/HiDevilLovesYou
Summary: Aziraphale knows he loves Crowley. He’s been painfully aware for some time now. But he’s also aware of the reason why Crowley stays by his side - he just wants to tempt him into falling.Or: In which Aziraphale finally crashes his 2 brain cells together after the Armage-Diddly-Don’t, and he realises he’s been stupid for centuries.





	He comes as everything you've ever wished for

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!  
Lovely for you to have stopped by here. I hope you'll have as much of a good time reading this as I had writing it. I would very much like to hear whatever you thought of it, so feel free to leave any comments.
> 
> I do not own absolutely anything except for the mistakes that I made.
> 
> It's actually a first piece of fan fiction I have written in a long, looong time, and none of that was published, but thanks to the encouragment of my two lovely friends, I've decided to give it a go and share. I really love Good Omens, and the marvellous fandom that just keeps on creating and I wanted to be part of that, so here we are.
> 
> I would like to thank Majka and Amanda, you've been an immensenly helpful to me and I can only be thankful to have such wonderful friends as you <3
> 
> So, I hope you have fun reading!

Aziraphale adores humanity. Lovely, clever humans, with their quirky inventions, scrumptious food, lucious drinks, wholehearted kindness and adoration for dreams. There was something about Earth that always made Aziraphale feel at home - dare he say, more at home than Heaven ever felt. 

Aziraphale found that he and the mankind cherished and treasured with the same fervent passion one thing together through the ages, despite different cultures and languages. Despite odd places, various times, different methods of writing - both humanity and Aziraphale loved words.

Humans, whether or not “surprisingly” one can argue, had always been able to find the right words for every occasion and every feeling, which Aziraphale always welcomed with a slight tingle of amazement. His earthly dwelling, his nest, his home, became the reflection of his love - Aziraphale surrounded himself with words and stories, to have and to hold them forever, read and reread them again and again, always finding new and astounding interpretations to words read before.

It didn’t come as a shock, then, when humanity found yet another way with words that would imprint on Aziraphale’s mind. A lovely young student of literature first came about out of sheer curiosity, to browse through the books and soak in the atmosphere of the antique bookshop. She found something she liked there - a wonderful copy of “Jane Eyre” by Charlotte Bronte under her pen name Currer Bell, published by Nelson in 1940, bound in full leather calf with exquisite gilt detailing and raised bands and hand marbled endpapers. It was a love at first sight, for once she set her sight on it, she would be unwilling to back away - and she came by quite often, bargaining and pleading with Aziraphale to let her buy the book. He did, in the end, gave in, after finding her sitting between shelves and looking at the lovely copy with insurmountable amount of love. She would come by afterwards, if only to chat with the angel on the topic of literature for hours on no end.

One of those times they would come onto subject of “Paradise Lost” of Milton, and then continued to speak of the devil’s image in literature and current pop culture. The young lady was quite insistent on it being impossible for the devil to be a red skinned, horned and nasty thing all over, and Aziraphale was more than pleased to try to bring her out of her wrong. He believed that he would manage to do just that quite soon, too, when she huffed at him with exheragation and claimed, that the devil, being a tempter, would come as everything one ever wished for. Aziraphale was left quite flabbergasted afterwards for a few seconds, before chuckling softly and partially admitting her to be right in this one regard.

Long after she had gone home, Aziraphale sat still at his desk and remembered her words, and how yet again those lovely, cleaver humans had managed to capture his thoughts and feelings. Looking past a book sitting on his desk, he remembered events long past, smelling like gardens and apples and sand and the rain.

He, as a Guardian of the Eastern Gate, had been on the apple tree duty. He had failed miserably really, not seeing the serpent slither in until it was too late. He had also given away his flaming sword, which he was not sure was a good thing to do. He remembered quite vividly his overwhelming anxiety as he watched the two humans go, and as he realised that the enemy was sneaking up right next to him.

To be quite honest he hadn’t expected anything good from the interaction. He schooled his expression into forced indifference, bent on ignoring whatever mocking or degrading or gloating comments the demon was going to shower him with. Perhaps this was why, after hearing “Well, that went down like a lead balloon”, he had to ask for a repetition - he simply had not expected a casual conversation. He was so odd, too, that Crawley. The Civil War in Heaven and the fall of some angels set a high expectations on what the demons were supposed to be like, and Crowley was none of that. Well, with the small exception of questioning the Almighty and tempting humans into The First Sin, perhaps.

Truly, it had been odd - Aziraphale talking with Crowley. Really talking, not just exchanging empty words. Which didn’t happen in Heaven a lot. Crowley seemed to listen to him too, to bring comfort and understanding and reassurance, asking questions that Aziraphale wouldn’t dare to think. And when the first drops started to fall from the sky and Crowley moved closer to the angel, as though he was seeking shelter, he without thinking covered him with his wing. It was the spontaneousness and simplicity of the gesture that made Aziraphale conscious of Crowley’s intentions.

Of course Aziraphale couldn’t blame the demon - he could equally blame a tiger for hunting its prey, or sun for shining. It has been, after all, Crowley’s nature to sense weakness and use it, to tempt and maim and wreak havoc and cause mayhem. He had only himself to blame - his self-consciousness, loneliness and need for validation. Crowley, being the “good” demon that he is, could not pass an opportunity for tempting an angel into a fall now, could he? Especially with Aziraphale being such an easy target.

And so, Crowley had become Aziraphale’s perfect companion - compassionate and generous, yet sharp and witty, willing to do what Aziraphale refused to, tempting and enticing and beguiling in the most subtle of ways. And it had been so easy to come to trust and rely on Crowley, depend on his kindness and imagination and companionship. Aziraphale always had to guard himself vigilantly, pushing Crowley away again and again and again, always finding the demon coming back to him, always thinking himself one step short of falling.

Aziraphale was painfully aware of how easy that would be - to give in to the temptation, to reach out to Crowley as Crowley had done countless time before, to give up everything else that mattered to Aziraphale. Crowley seemed so perfect after all, always there for the angel, so gallant and snarky, caring so, so much, far more than a demon should be able to, willing to perform miracles and share meals and save Aziraphale, even when he needn’t have.

It was far too easy for Aziraphale to allow this fondness of Crowley grow and lay a claim on him, and therefore the angel pushed it all down for centuries - all the accidental too fond looks, all the smiles and all the words, falling from his lips like a prayer. He lied to himself and to Crowley and to Heaven, logically reminding himself of the differences between them and stopping himself startled as soon as he found himself ruminating of Crowley’s laughter, touch of his hand or the possible taste of his lips. He had managed, somehow, until 1941.

It was right after the bombarding, when Crowley had just handed him back his books of prophecies and sauntered away saying “Lift home?”, that the angel realised for first time since their meeting in the Garden that the serpent would eventually win - after all how different could be the feeling of falling from God to falling in love with Crowley?

Aziraphale decided that he would push down on that too, persuading himself into fighting with this longer, holding away just a bit more. And he managed to hold onto his arduous task until The End of Days came around, and he was suddenly very much so hit with how little time both he and Crowley had left in the world. He was spending so much time with Crowley too, seeing him every day for six years, feeling more than ever the pull of him, as though he was his own gravity force.

Aziraphale loved Crowley. Sometimes, when he was especially miffed with himself for those feelings, he liked to think that his corporal form was issued with a defect - it was after all far more plausible that his human heart was malfunctioning because of a mistake in making, than because he was close to a certain willy old serpent. And Crowley had not been making anything easy on Aziraphale, always tempting and using all the right words to make Aziraphale want to fall, practically begging to be allowed to dive head first into whatever fate Crowley would decide for him.

He thought that he might as well use Crowley’s willingness to do whatever it takes to save the world. But when it all started coming down - even after the Antichrist, Adam, so much more human than Aziraphale expected him to be, had refused to go through with the Apocalipse. His father, Satan himself, was coming up, and Crowley gave up. Crowley didn’t want to try anymore, he didn’t see the point. And Aziraphale, holding the flaming sword, wanted to force one last miracle from him.

It seemed odd, somehow, that Crowley would look at the sword with surprised puzzlement, practically stupefied really, yet as soon as Aziraphale said that ridiculous thing, childishly blackmailing him by never speaking of to him again, he moved into action.

It seemed odd to Aziraphale, who was sure that Crowley would give up corrupting the angel at this point, that he would do everything to keep him in his life. They ended up saving the world together, side by side.

It seemed odd to Aziraphale, that he only started questioning Crowley’s motives after all this mess, when they came back to Crowley’s flat, as he had nowhere else to go. The Bookshop had, after all, burned down.

Crowley needn’t have bothered anymore. He had no reason to support Adam as he faced his father, or even to come to Tadfield at all. And yet, there he was, always offering, always reaching out, and for the first time in the centuries that passed Aziraphale realised that he was mistaken all along. It had been his firmest belief that Crowley made himself out to be everything the angel could have ever wanted simply to corrupt him and make him fall. But Crowley, wonderful darling Crowley, he was just like that. There was never any pressuring Aziraphale into any sort of relationship. Only Crowley, faithfully waiting for Aziraphale to be ready, slowing down for him.

Aziraphale felt warm and content, finally at peace with the universe. He had loved Crowley for quite some time, and now, after all they had been through, he could find hope that he would spent the rest of his days by Crowley’s side.

And so after the body switch and fooling their respective Head Offices, they went to the Ritz, For the first time in forever, with his heart light, Aziraphale let his love for Crowley shine through, thinking that there was no force in Heaven, Hell or on Earth that could ever rip him away from his love.

After all, they were on their Own Side now.

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone is interested, the description of the copy of "Jane Eyre" is borrowed from:  
https://www.abebooks.com/servlet/BookDetailsPL?bi=22920575740&searchurl=fe%3Don%26sortby%3D17%26tn%3DJane%2BEyre%26an%3DCharlotte%2BBronte&cm_sp=snippet-_-srp7-_-title2  
I felt like it was written in a very Aziraphale-like way, and so I just adapted it into story :)


End file.
